Thursday, April 21, 2016

Share the Journey

Share your journeys, they say. Share the bane and pleasures of your lifelong journey, so that you are not caught alone in the webs of your mind. 

It helps, they say. Helps ends the endless thirst for more hunts. More taxidermy. More late night shoveling. 

Early morning regrets. 



Faces in the crowd. 



Latex gloves. 



Voices under my eyelids. 



Ad Nauseam


Fucking useless advises...

Thursday, April 7, 2016

One’s Diatribe is Another’s Accolade

“There is nothing spontaneous or accidental about "rock." It is a product of classical studies of the ancient Phrygian terrorist cult of Satan-Dionysos, the model for the Roman Bacchic cults of similar characteristics. Crowley’s control of the "rock industry" has been documented by a team of [private] investigators, who have also noted, that in addition to the Satanist lyrics, Satanist messages embedded sublimely in rock recordings are a key feature of this subversive operation. 


The "rock rhythm" itself is copied from the old Dionysian-Bacchic cults. Even without the drugs and sexual orgies which are characteristic features of hard-core rock affairs, repeated, frequent, hours-long exposure to constant repetition of "rock rhythms" produces lasting, drug-like effects on the mind of the victim. Reducing sexual practices to the level of bestiality, is a crucial feature of Satanism in all historical periods studied, from Phrygian Cybele-Dionysos cult-period onward.”


Wednesday, April 6, 2016

A Non-generic Groundswell

What could be more generic in the extreme, underground metal scene than references to blood

And yet, every now and then, you do stumble upon things that emanated such hard to cast aside, groundswell of anger and hatred, that really do last in your blood more than just a generic, teenage-angst of some early years dabbling in the underground.

I guess, for some of us, there’s nothing generic about feeling an affinity with the darker shades of consciousness.


Wednesday, March 30, 2016

Ontology


"I regard consciousness as fundamental. I regard matter as derivative from consciousness. We cannot get behind consciousness. Everything that we talk about, everything that we regard as existing, postulates consciousness."

Saturday, March 26, 2016

Transition

From Oestre to a magickal egg-laying hare..You got to hand it to those Abrahamic religions, they sure do know how to twist and fuzz-out myths for their own agenda…

Like a lingering cloud of gasified lungs in the showers of concentration camps, forever hanging in transition

Monday, March 7, 2016

Abandoned

Saw a very interesting, sad, pale game yesterday. So sad, it actually looks as if the whole cosmos has vacated her bluish, dreamy eyes, even as life writhes to survive within that pale flesh.

I wonder if it's the hunter and assassin within that brought such sense of abandon.

Wednesday, March 2, 2016

Dark Cold Stars

Nature can say so much with so little words. 


A shimmering glance of the pale monsoon moon, for example, can whisper all the stories one needs to known about the nightshades, and the evergreen cold darkness that it breeds.

Summoning souls like stars gathering at the height of the dark night’s embrace

Sunday, February 28, 2016

Reap

I always know that the time is ripe for raping the seeds that I’ve sown for so many years when I see the night skies turned crimson last Samhain…


The forest is cleared of fogs and the talismans are shimmering with the old light, emanating deep from the evergreen heart of the night, calling me forth to reap what I’ve sown. 

Sometimes it feels as if each deep dark nooks and crannies of the forest is a summon to reap.

Friday, February 26, 2016

Prayers

Here’s what an a self-proclaimed insightful magus of the mundane realm told me once in a foggy bar stool evening: There is no need for any prayers, mantras, murmurs of parley and cajoling with denizens of horse shit realms that exists only in the beholder’s own weak, fearful, inconsistent mind. 


The only prayer useful to be pondered, the magus claimed, is the one from a few decades ago, when one is sober enough to perceive the ultimate truth: “I press her thigh and death smile

Repeat after me: “I press her thigh and death smile” - “I press her thigh and death smile” - “I press the trigger and death smile